


Southern Cross to North Star

by perfectly_comfortable



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Endgame, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Lizzington - Freeform, Romance, The Blacklist - Freeform, season 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-06-22 05:40:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15574974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectly_comfortable/pseuds/perfectly_comfortable
Summary: Set during Season 5 and starting from Ruin (5x09). The actions of Liz in Ruin wherein she "killed some men. Doesn’t matter that they were bad. That it was them or me. What matters is that I did it and I was good at it." does not occur. Her time spent in solitude was uneventful and was used as the healing process it should have been; to resolve the death of TK. Elizabeth returns from Alaska rehabilitated. This AU is a telling of the journey that unfolds upon her reunion with Reddington.





	1. Crossing the abyss

Elizabeth approached door 9A and took a deep breath. Months she had been gone. In Alaska, grieving. Then one day she stopped. While reminiscing their entire relationship, it dawned on her how wrong it all was. The lies and everything he did to her. Eventually getting himself killed over something that was, undoubtedly, none of his business. His last manipulation put her in a coma for nearly a year. “ _No more._ ” she vowed that day. Now, she could see clearly. He was gone. No more.

She exhaled and rapped the knocker three times. The door opened and there stood Dembe.

“Elizabeth.” he pronounced, almost quizzically. “Please, come in.”

Her eyes fell to the floor beyond the threshold and she sharply inhaled her anxiety. She stepped forward as Dembe’s empathetic gaze followed her. While he closed the door behind them, she studied the apartment. A black canvas holding rose and lemon florals hung in the hallway. The walls and decor displayed tones of hazelwood and cedar. As she passed through the archway, the room opened to her left and her eyes searched to see him standing there. Reddington. They both stopped, mirroring each other. He had just risen from the armchair. Arms still swaying slightly, eyes beaming, jaw hanging in a smile of delight and awe. His head jerked upwards, greeting her and asking the silent question. Elizabeth answered with a satisfied smile, giving them another moment of collective silence.

“You look...strong.” Reddington affirmed.

“I’m healed.” Elizabeth stated, brightly. “I wanna thank you.”

“What for?”

“For honouring your promise. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

Referring to the favour she had asked of him; not to follow her when she left. She bowed her head apologetically, her expression turning solemn, yet keeping her sight fixed on him. Reddington breathed in acceptance as he approached her with his familiar swagger.

“It was what you wanted.” he honoured. Clenching his jaw, exhibiting to her the toll the time had taken on him.

“I also wanna apologise.” Elizabeth continued. Reddington’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he stood before her.

“Why?” he asked, low and softly.

“I should have listened to you.” she replied. “You warned me so many times but I didn’t care to hear it.” Her voice was breaking. Reddington’s lips were now pursed and his left brow arched into that concerned stare. “I lost sight of everything. With everything that he did to me; every lie, every time he pointed a gun at me. Selling us to Berlin and almost getting me killed.” she sighed, her chest tightening. Turning away with every revelation in a failing attempt to hide the welling tears. “He manipulated me, so much, I told myself that I loved him. That I had no control.” she confessed, returning to Reddington who’s own eyes twitched in torment. “And, now...I’ve lost a year of my life, my daughter’s life, over-” Elizabeth’s face crumbled and she began to weep. Her eyelids fell and she raised her hand to cover them. A single, painful choke escaping her throat. In the darkness, she felt his right hand take her head and pull her to him. His left arm wrapping around and holding her.

“Shh.” he whispered, long, into her ear as she sobbed into the lapel of his mourning-coloured vest. His fingers, comfortingly, combed over her chestnut hair and his cheek pressed to her temple. Elizabeth stilled. Feeling his chest rise and fall with every steady breath. She began to breathe in unison. Elizabeth’s ragged cries began to ebb. Opening her eyes, lashes saturated and cheeks damp, she realised her right hand gripping the open collar of his white shirt. Her left palm pressed to her heart between them. She stared, endlessly, at her clenched fingers. This wasn’t the first embrace they’d shared but Elizabeth found herself unable and unwilling to let go. It comforted her that Reddington was doing the same. A few more moments of calm.

“I’m sorry.” she exhaled, trying desperately to hold back more tears.

“Shh.” Reddington hushed again, softly, caressing her hair once more. Then, raising her from his chest, he cradling her face in both hands. Looking into her. His eyes were suffering and glassy, lips still clamped, the corners of his mouth sinking. “You have nothing to apologise for. Not to me. Ever.” he declared.

Reddington’s expression reflected in her.

“Can you forgive me?” Elizabeth implored.

With his hands still cupping her face, and hers still clutching him, he leaned toward her. Elizabeth’s gaze flickered across him, falling to his lips, which glided past and planted on her temple. The soft, peck of his kiss echoed as their hands fell. Stepping back a pace he focused upon her, again, and give a single nod before even answering.  
“Yes.” he resounded. His expression raising and dancing, head tilted, a faint smirk passing and vanishing with a cick of his tongue. “Will you be able to forgive yourself?” he asked, finally.

Facing him, mouth still agape, Elizabeth recalled her time in solitude. Despite her reasoning, she prayed all that time that Reddington would pardon her for abandoning him. His unyielding understanding giving her the closure she so yearned for.

“Now I can.” she assured as she washed away her lamentations. “You told me, before I left, that I was running from my problems instead of facing them. That I was hiding in the dark.”

He blinked and nodded, in recollection, through his fierce gaze.

“Did you find light?” He probed.

“It took a while.” she admitted. “I grieved, I mourned. Then...after crossing the abyss,” she acknowledged with a sly smile. Reddington responded with a proud look. The same one that shone across his face that night outside the courthouse. “I found my light. Just like you said...and I see now what’s most important to me.” she confirmed. A moment’s pause passed. Elizabeth stepped forward, closing the space between them, returning her hand over his rumpled collar. Feeling his collarbone beneath her fingertips.

“Lizzy.” he rumbled. The vibration of his voice travelling through her digits like electricity through a wire. Reverberating into her wrist and jolting in her scar.

“If you are need, I will be there.” she quoted. Reciting the promise he had made to her all those years ago. “You’ve kept your word all this time.” she recognized, raising her sight to his who looked down to her.

“My word is my bond, my currency.” Reddington stated. Articulating every word like it was a law.

Elizabeth’s lips split apart as she scanned the honesty in eyes.

“You told me that night...that you weren’t my father.” she recalled. Referring, again, to their phone conversation that first year. When Red disappeared after Anslo Garrick’s seige on the Post Office. Reddington inhaled sharply and Elizabeth felt his structure expand under her palm. Their eyes still locked on each other. “You never have lied to me, have you?”

“Never.” he answered, immediately, like the notion was a rule he could not break. His eyes piercing with certainty.

“When I brought you that DNA report, I confronted you with what I was told. I never even gave you the chance to explain.” Elizabeth remembered. “A mistake I’ve made too many times.” she whispered, her eyes falling back to his thorax.

“Lizzy.” Reddington attempted, finally blinking, feeling a pressure emanate from the old bullet wound in his chest. The scar tingling under Lizzy’s guard.

“I just assumed what I thought was right for both of us.” she continued. “But even when I faced you that night, I waited. I waited for you to refuse it. When we danced at the motel,” a subtle smile flashed at the corners of her mouth. “I still didn’t believe it. Then, when you asked me if I was afraid because I was your daughter…” Citing their conversation after the their venture with Greyson Blaise. Hearing herself say the words made Elizabeth squirm. “I heard it in your voice. I knew it wasn’t the truth.” she proclaimed, looking up at him anew. Reddington swallowed her name. Something behind his features was breaking. “So I’ll ask you, one more time; _Are_ you my father?”

Reddington’s thousand-yard stare transfixed on Elizabeth as she searched it.

“Answer me.” she begged, calmly.

“You know the answer to that.” he told her.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Stalemate. Elizabeth’s thumb and forefinger pressed his collarbone.

“No.” he asserted, finally.

Elizabeth’s chest depressed, as she sank face-first into his, a sigh of relief breaking free. His arms surrounded her again. Five years of uncertainty settled between them as they stood entwined. Reddington’s chin propped on her head. She felt his lips kiss her scalp and then a cheek harbour upon it. Suddenly, her legs started to give out from underneath her.

“Elizabeth!” Red gasped, clinching her back before she could fall completely. His right hand supporting her underarm and his left grabbing her waist. She could hear Dembe’s footsteps rushing towards them. “No. I have her.” Reddington assured. Once secured, his right hand let her go. Her head fell back, pulling her upper half toward the hardwood floor. His aid replaced under her legs, cradling and lifting her back up in his arms. Elizabeth felt weightless, floating, as Red carried her past a column and into the living room. Setting her down easy on the pearl-shade sofa. A silver hanging-lamp haloed over them. He took a knee beside her and assumed a position they’d become all too familiar with, holding each other’s right hands and Reddington watching over her.

“Elizabeth?” he whispered. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” a layer of panic chimed beneath his concern.

“I must be tired.” She whimpered faintly, light-headed and eyes heavy. “L-Long journey.”

“Shhh.” he returned, placing his free hand, lightly, atop her forehead and stroking her hairline. “Rest now, Elizabeth. Dembe-”

Before Reddington could finish, Dembe was already there with the throw blanket that lay, on the corner group, at Elizabeth’s head. He covered her under it and tucked the sheet into the cushions.

“Thank you, Dem-”

“It’s nothing, Elizabeth.” Dembe waved. His eternal kindness radiating between them as they exchanged faint smiles. “Sleep well.” he bid, returning towards the dining room.  
Elizabeth’s gaze followed him, this time, whirling around and securing on Reddington again. He held her hand only an inch from him.

“Sleep now, Lizzy.” he prayed. His face conveying the same soft expression he gave her when she first woke from the coma. She could feel his words sail over her knuckles as she succumbed to unconsciousness. Reddington lowered her hand onto the settee between them. As he began to unsheathe himself from her, Elizabeth’s fingers helixed around his. He stared at them and back to her, her eyes still shut.

“Don’t go.” she breathed weakly. He gathered her wish.

“I’m not going anywhere, Elizabeth.” he vowed, shaking his head erratically. His eyes focusing the promise through her closed ones. He clasped her hand, once again, and brushed his thumb over the soft skin of her backhand.  
He edged up onto the sofa bed adjacent to her. Pulling their linked hands up with him and laying them beside her head. He supported his left arm on the backrest over her, and angled his face to parallel hers. Beholding Elizabeth as she slumbered.

“Raymond.” Dembe murmured behind him. His head spun to see his friend extending another blanket.

“No. Thank you, Dembe.” Raymond politely declined. Dembe placed the offering beside him anyway as he focused to Elizabeth again.

“Goodnight, Raymond.” Dembe agreed, placing a hand on Reddington’s shoulder.

“Goodnight.” Reddington responded in kind as Dembe left the room.

He watched over her until the room fell black. He could still see the her face contrasting against the darkness. Her soft jaw tensing as she dreamt. Her smooth-as-porcelain cheeks reflecting shadow. When he felt pitch begin to take him he eased his clutch from hers. Then, lightly anchoring down to her, touched his lips to her hair in a tender goodnight. Quietly he raised and trudged back to his armchair. Reddington sunk down and kept a weather eye. There, he was the drifting sea and she was the lighthouse. Until, finally, he yielded to the night.


	2. Bracken Road

Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open. Mustering awareness. It was barely dawn. The dim light of sunrise hazed through the white voile curtains and cast a mist-like state over the once bright room. She scanned across to see Reddington on the armchair, still asleep. A driftwood coffee table sat before him with yesterday’s paper still folded on its surface. She sat up slowly, as not to wake him, removed her blanket, stood, and soundlessly approached. She’d rarely seen Reddington like this; so still. Sitting upright with his left arm atop the armrest and his right hand upon his thigh. Head dipped slightly, eyes drawn shut and calm, and his breathing silent and ever steady. Set like a Renaissance statue. Elizabeth studied him fondly, a moment more, before draping her linen blanket steadily across his shoulders. Surprisingly, he didn’t stir. She rose successfully and turned back to the dining room.

The kitchen was situated on the other side beyond the archway to the apartment. Stepping towards it, passing an onyx table. She ran her fingertips over it’s smooth, matte finish. To her right, she observed another large canvas, displayed on a shelf above the triple cabinet. It nestled in the nook of the wall; an abstract expressionist painting of earth and ash. At the foot of the art lay a polished box defended by an ornate golden skull. The exhibit was mysterious yet beautifully honest. As she passed the hallway, she clocked Dembe still standing guard at the door.

“You’re still awake?!” she questioned, in a whisper, proceeding towards him. Dembe gave an acknowledging nod. His hands clasped in front of him. “You must be exhausted.” Elizabeth discerned, sympathetically.

“I’m fine, Elizabeth.” he guaranteed in his thick African accent.

“Do you wanna, at least, sit down? I can watch things from here.”

“That’s quite-” he began to protest.

“I’m headed to the kitchen anyway. I’ll be right there.”

“Eliz-”

“Dembe!” she hushed. Raising her chin and brow, scornfully, but her eyes conveying benevolence.

“Alright.” He settled, raising his hands, and gave an appreciative smile. “Thank you...Agent Keen.” he jested. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. She’d never heard the cool, collective Dembe wisecrack before. Failing to hide their smirks, he started into the apartment and she followed him out of the hallway. Making sure he fulfilled her insistence. He crossed to the far wall, pulled out the chair from under the dining table and sat facing the threshold. Satisfying both her request and his duty to protect the safehouse. Folding his hands on the tabletop and glimpsing over at her, as if to ask if she was satisfied. She crossed her arms, officiously, leaning against the breakfast counter and exchanged his banter. He deciphered her speechless command to get some sleep and closed his eyes, straightened and meditated.

Elizabeth orbited the breakfast table and into the kitchen. She began foraging the cupboards for breakfast, realising she hadn’t eaten since returning home. There wasn’t much. It was to be expected, of course. Reddington never stayed in the same place for more than two nights. The apartment perhaps belonged to some eccentric lawyer or obscure government official, probably away on business or vacation. No doubt a maid or even the janitor was an associate of Red’s. His endless connections granting him access to some of the most luxurious hideaways in the world.

Finding only the basics, she decided on a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Reaching for the box, Elizabeth flinched as another hand chased from behind her and apprehended her choice. Reddington had manifested beside her, arresting her wrist, and shushing her with a finger to his lips.

“Nice try.” he objected softly. Elizabeth’s startled stare darted from Reddington to the armchair and back, wondering how on earth he came to be in her presence. “I’m a light sleeper, Elizabeth, you should know that.” he reminded her. They had, after all, spent three months on the lamb together in which they rarely slept soundly. Reddington being the more experienced. Elizabeth surrendered. “The blanket was a nice gesture.” he conceded as he began to roll his sleeves. A cunning simper spreading across his face.

“I thought you were asleep.” Elizabeth exchanged, almost rolling her eyes.

“All the same. Thank you.”

“Your welcome.” she replied as Reddington began knotting an apron around him. “What are you doing?”

“Making you breakfast.”

“Oh. No.” Elizabeth challenged.

“What nicer thing can you do for somebody than make them breakfast?” Red recited, standing sure. Elizabeth gawped, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Shaking her head in defeat she signed that she intended to freshen up. He granted as he spun and opened the fridge.

*

Upon returning, the sun had risen just enough to transition the formally misty living space into a cloudy grey. Dembe had relocated to the armchair beside Reddington’s, lounging, now fast asleep. He must have moved, at his friends behest, to rest more comfortably. Red had turned the kitchen lights on, setting a bright amber glow, as he prepared whatever continental delicacy he had in store. He had set the table with a pewter fabric placemat and matching coaster with a tumbler of orange juice. It seemed Elizabeth had arrived just in time as he waited past her plate-in-hand and lay it down.

“Sit.” he beckoned, holding the dining chair out. She strolled over and took her seat as he slid it under her. Presented before her was a grilled cheese and Prosciutto sandwich with arugula and tomatoes.

“Gustare.” he purred, in Italian, before taking his own leave.

Reddington was never one for simplicity, Elizabeth thought, tucking into her breakfast.

Once finished, she took her dishes to the kitchen, placed them in the sink, and turned on the tabletop radio. Keeping the volume low as not to disturb Dembe. The preset channel faded to life, just catching the smooth voice of the radiocaster, announcing the next request.

_“...and now, ladies and gentleman, Bracken Road performed by the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra.”_

A lone trumpet played sending Elizabeth visions of Parisian streets. Piano keys followed as she went back to the sink to wash her plate. Completing the chore as an ensemble of strings joined the trumpet. Before she could turn, however, she was arrested again. Reddington taking her right hand and twirling her towards him. He placed his other at the base of her spine, just above the limit of the belt on her blue jeans, and held her in the closed position.

“What are you doing?” she quizzed again, masking a smile while her left hand grasped his deltoid.

“We haven’t celebrated yet and music like this deserves to be danced to.” he proposed in a low hum. “I planned on doing that.” Reddington continued, referring to the plate and glass on the draining board.

“I appreciate that but you don’t need to do everything for me. It’s the least I could do.” Elizabeth responded kindly.

“Fair enough.” he accepted as he began to sway her to the returning piano. Revolving in place as they slow danced.

“It was delicious by the way.” she praised him for breakfast. “Martha Stewart better watch out.” she joked. Reddington chuckled and they traded grins. His smile faded with the piano and his face conveyed deep thought.

“Lizzy, about last night.” he started as a clarinet awoke from the break.

“I don’t wanna talk about last night.” she stopped him, shaking her head, as she looking into his eyes. “What matters now is that I’m healed and I’m back...with you.” Elizabeth proclaimed, smoothing her hand up and onto his shoulder. The curve of her thumb aligning at the base of his neck. The declaration made Reddington breath deeply as the orchestra unified.

“What will you do now?” he asked, curiously.

“Now. Now I get my daughter back.” she announced. Reddington shone proudly. “I want my daughter back.” Elizabeth asserted, smiling brightly back at him. They proceeded to rock back and forth to the reemerging strings and, before long, she had fallen into chest. At this point, the action had become so natural. They fit like two pieces of a puzzle or a painting on the wall.

“Agnes will be so excited.” Reddington assured her once again. The piano began to play them out as the diminuendo drew near. “I never did say...” he continued, imperfectly.

“Say what?” Elizabeth enquired.

The music began to cadence and Reddington gently titled her on her axis, leaning her backwards, completing the dance with the fading notes. She giggled, delightfully, as her hair cascaded towards the floorboards. Glancing behind her, instinctively, and back to Red who hung over her. Supporting her under him with his forearm.

“Welcome back.” he finished as they passed warm expressions under the kitchen lights.

A thought blinked across Elizabeth, neutralising her features. She hesitated. Her eyes darted across his as Reddington explored hers. It felt as if they were suspended there for hours.

“I missed you.” she professed. Finally admitting her longing made her heart pound inside her chest. She was sure Red could feel the tremors despite trying to veil them with rapid breaths.

Reddington’s eyelids drew heavy, bearing a look that could only be described as desire. His trap muscle was tense under her grip. Slowly, he pulled her back to her centre of gravity. His hand flowed around her waist, dragging the loose cotton of her black shirt with him, as he released her. Their yearning gaze’s never straying. Still holding her hand, he dipped it down between them and curled his fingertips over the edge of her scarred wrist. Raising it, again, and with both hands courteously pressed her knuckle to his lips and spoke into the spaces between her fingers.

“I’ve missed you too, Lizzy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Bracken Road' is a real piece, performed by The City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, and written by Sir Anthony Hopkins!  
> It provided the inspiration for the chapter and you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IMKVu9HGfwc


	3. In the eyes of a child.

_“Hargrave residence. How may I help you?”_ answered a voice.

“Susan Hargrave, please?” Elizabeth requested.

 _“May I ask who’s calling?”_ the voice replied.

“Elizabeth Keen.”

 _“One moment.”_ The line went silent.

Elizabeth waited, anxiously, on the burner phone sitting on the armchair beside Reddington’s. He was sitting in his, beside her. Fully dressed in a dark palette and ready to leave. His black fedora resting on the coffee table in front of them. Dembe was preparing for their departure and wiping down the apartment. The dial tone clicked as the call was picked up.

 _“Liz?”_ asked Scottie Hargrave.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

_“It’s been a while. How are you?”_

“I’m fine, thank you. Better.”

_“That’s good news. I assume you’re calling to check up on Agnes?”_

“That’s right. How is she?”

_“Healthy and happy just like I promised.”_

“That’s great.” Elizabeth sparkled. “There’s something else.” she continued.

_“Is everything alright?”_

“Yeah, that’s actually why I’m calling.” she paused. “I’m back.”

 _“Really?”_ Scottie asked, surprised.

“Yeah...and I’m-I’m ready.” Elizabeth declared, turning to Reddington who smiled approvingly at her. An air of silence passed.

_“Well, I said it would happen. She’s here at the mansion. She’ll be waiting for you.”_

“Thanks. I’m on my way.”

_“Then, I guess, I’ll see you soon.”_

Elizabeth hung up. She and Reddington beamed at one another.

“Ready?” he asked her, hoisting himself upright and retrieving his hat.

“Almost.” she answered, joining him. Reddington stood with a frown. He thought Elizabeth could not wait another second if it meant seeing Agnes again. “First, I need to change out of these clothes.” Elizabeth advised.

“You’re in luck.” Reddington proclaimed. “It so happens that this apartment has an astoundingly large closet at one’s disposal.” Red proposed, speaking with his hands.

“I was...going to suggest we stop off at my place. I’m not just gonna steal someone else’s clothes.” Elizabeth scowled in bewilderment.

“Nonsense. Tara’s an old friend and for as long as I’ve known her; she’s never worn same item of clothing twice.” Reddington insisted then lead towards the bedroom. Elizabeth did a double-take and, hesitantly, followed.

Upon entering the bedroom, Reddington approached a set of double doors built into the wall and swung them open. Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t exaggerating. The closet was another, entire room in in of itself. The colour scheme and lighting was bright, white, and garish. The racks were lined end-to-end with designer clothes of every colour. It was like something out of the movies. Or that old TV show about those women who wore high-end fashion, talked about men, and drank Cosmopolitans.

“This is-” Elizabeth stammered.

“Absurd.” Reddington finished.

“I was going to say ridiculous but yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “And no.” She surrendered as she drew in like a moth to a flame. Despite the absurdity she couldn’t help but be stereotypically engrossed. Staring in wonder as she inescapably thumbed through the collection.

“Like a kid in a candy store.” Reddington quipped. Elizabeth personified the expression to him. “I’ll give you some privacy.” he respected. “I have to make a phone call myself.” and courteously backed out of the room, closing the doors as he went.

“I’ll only be a second!” She called to him and began hurriedly lifting items from the lines and deliberating them.

She, eventually, decided on a pair of black jeans and ankle boots. To break the colour she picked out a forest-green, collared blouse leaving the top two buttons open to shape a v-neck. Finally she armoured with a biker-style, leather jacket. It felt familiar. A look she had almost patented while on the run with Reddington. Feeling strong while studying her choice in the mirror she couldn’t help feel something was off. Combing her fingers through her hair, in thought, Elizabeth realised. In completion, she parted her hair to the left so that a length of her brown locks angled over her eye. There, she thought, and admired herself.

Elizabeth exited the closet land to find Reddington finishing up on the phone. Postured in the bedroom doorway, waiting for her, with his own black coat on and fedora hanging from his fingertips. Laying eyes on her, through his conversation, his face lifted in astonishment. Like they were seeing each other again for the first time. Elizabeth opened her hands, asking him what he thought.

“Wonderful!” he said aloud, a double declaration. “You’re an angel.” he dialogued, all the while staring at Elizabeth. “Thank you, Hermione, I’ll be there shortly.” Reddington composed and snapped his burner phone shut.

He continued to muse upon her. She reciprocated, brightly, and was almost blushing. Hands, coyly, tucked into her back pockets. Reddington breathed in her harmonious energy before opening the doorway and outstretching his hand.

“Shall we?” he beckoned.

“Let’s go!” she bubbled.

*

In the back of Reddington’s S-Class Mercedes, the outside world was a haze as they journeyed to Scottie Hargrave’s Mansion where Agnes awaited. Traffic flew by and the roadside trees streamed into an emerald blur. He passengered in the seat behind Dembe. She across from him. It had been silent up until now.

“Where did you go?” Reddington asked, suddenly and softly.

Elizabeth turned to him. He was focused on her with curiosity. She blinked.

“Alaska.” she replied.

A soft chuckle escaped from Reddington.

“Of course you did.” he appraised. “I’m heartened that you didn’t go somewhere as cliche as Mexico.”

“Why is that funny?”

“It’s not. It makes perfect sense.” Reddington shrugged and shook his head. “Did you know that Alaska was once called Russian America?” he quizzed, making an obvious reference to her heritage.

“No. I didn’t.” Elizabeth responded inquisitively. Shifting to face him with her head relaxed on the headrest. Ready for a story.

“The colonization was brief. Not particularly profitable. Only lasting about seventy years but in the early-to-mid nineteenth Century it was a haven for the fur trade.” Reddington’s tale coursed through into his hands. His second language. “Sea otter pelts were a commodity in those days.” he chimed. “Sitka was the capital, until being bought by the United States in 1867, then renamed New Archangel.” he told. His words flowing up and down like a song.

“I did not know that.”

“It was the Russian Navy, sailing aboard the St.Peter, that fully settled there in 1741.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth grinned, now propping her head up on the seat, as Reddington enthused over his knowledge of Naval Intelligence. He stopped in thought. “What is it?” she asked.

“How did you...cope?” he queried, concerningly.

“I kept busy.” Elizabeth assured. “Rehabbed my body every day, went running in the woods. It was so peaceful. I would keep finding bear-traps and I’d set them off. As dangerous as a bear is I couldn’t face to see one getting hurt.” Elizabeth admitted, wholeheartedly. “I had a little a cabin.” she reminisced. “Ran off of this old, outdoor generator that never worked.” Elizabeth laughed. Reddington smiled from ear-to-ear. “But I rolled with the punches. Fixing it kept me focused. I would chop my own firewood. My shoulder would kill me...but I always remembered what my physiotherapist told me; pain is good. That pain says you’re body is still working and it reminded me that I was still here.”

“That’s a comforting philosophy.” Reddington agreed. “I assume you didn’t go by your own name.” he wondered. With Reddington’s experience he used multiple identities for business and safety. Bequeathing his abilities to Elizabeth during their time together.

“Grace.” she answered, shyly. Reddington’s face lit up.

“God’s favour.” he translated.

“We’re here.” Dembe announced.

Red and Lizzie broke glances as they pulled into the courtyard parking lot.

Susan Hargrave’s mansion was a picturesque up-state home of grey stone and squared columns. Ivy plants snaked over the exterior. The windowed doors were made of weathered oak.

The excitement of seeing Agnes again made Elizabeth breathe anxiously. Her hand lay clenched on the armrest console in the middle seat. She rubbed the joint of her index finger, meticulously, with her thumb. Reddington reached over and took her hand, breaking her grip, and squeezed it with his own.

“You’ll be fine.” he reassured her. Elizabeth smiled sweetly at him before unclipping her seatbelt and opening the door. “I have some business to attend to nearby. I won’t be gone long.” Reddington informed her.

“Okay.” Elizabeth acknowledged him.

“I’ll call you when I come back but...take all the time you need.”

“I will. See you soon.” she beckoned. Reddington’s fingertips smoothed over her backhand as she left.

She shut the door behind her and the Mercedes pulled away. Elizabeth watched it set off, like a ship from a cliff, until it faded from view. Turning on her heel, she marched across the courtyard and arrived at the main door. Ringing the doorbell, the toll reverberated within the stone canopy arch. The door opened to a housekeeper.

“Hi. Elizabeth Keen.” Elizabeth stated. “I’m here to see Susan Hargrave. She’s expecting me.”

“Of course. Come in, please.” the housekeeper said.

Elizabeth stepped into the foyer. After the door shut she was led down the long hallway, past a staircase, to the other end of the house. The floor was marble and the walls and interior were the colour of cream and honey. This place looked more like a fancy hotel than a home. They approached a set of double, wooden doors and the housekeeper slid them open.

“Mrs. Hargrave. Elizabeth Keen here to see you.” she declared before leaving.

Elizabeth tread into the room, a well-furnished office, to find Susan at the helm. She was wearing a dark, sleeved dress. Her raven hair flowed down over her shoulders.

“Liz.” she expressed kindly, circling around her desk and nearing Elizabeth.

“Hi, Susan.” Elizabeth greeted. They reached an arm around each other in an informal hug.

“You look well.” Scottie gathered.

Elizabeth nodded silently. She was actively avoiding the idea of discussing her going away with Susan. She just wanted Agnes.

“Where’s Agnes?” Elizabeth entreated.

“She’s in her room upstairs. This way.” Scottie motioned and followed out into the hallway.

They walked back to the staircase and up to the second floor. Liz felt she was being led through a labyrinth. The yearning anticipation mounted with each passing second. Finally, they stopped at a door at the deepest part of the mansion. Scottie gave the honour to Elizabeth to open it. She turned the handle and entered.

The light hit her chest and her heart pulsed with life upon seeing her little, brown haired girl. She was sitting in the centre of the room, scribbling on a piece of paper with crayons. Just like the day she last saw her. It was like no time had passed at all. Elizabeth clung to breath as she tried keep composed. Blinking, repeatedly, as the dams of her eyes were failing.

“Agnes?” Elizabeth choked as she edged towards her.

The little girls head wheeled around. Her blunt-cut bob spinning on her scalp and her blue eyes gleamed as they found Elizabeth.

“Mommy!” Agnes cried as she rushed towards her mother.

Elizabeth sunk to her knees and the floodgates opened as she enfolded Agnes in her arms. She gasped through the tears while, with her right hand, held Agnes’s head to hers. Elizabeth had never felt so alive.

“I told her that you weren’t feeling well.” Scottie said, behind her. “And that, one day, when you were better, you’d come back to her.”

“Are you okay, now, Mommy?” Agnes asked.

“I’m okay, now, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.” Elizabeth prayed as she buried her face into Agnes’s hair.

“I missed you, Mommy.”

“I missed you too! Every single day, baby, every single day!” Elizabeth exhaled. “Let me look at you.” she urged as she released them from their embrace. Straightening the ends of Agnes’s hair with her fingers and stroking her cheeks. Holding her daughter’s face in her hand. “I’ve come to bring you home. Do you wanna come home?”

Agnes nodded fervently and Elizabeth shined. “I love you, so much!” Holding her daughter to her once more.

“Love you, Mommy.” Agnes rang into her mother's ear.

Elizabeth picked Agnes up onto her hip and turned back to Scottie.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her.” Elizabeth professed. “I only wish I knew how to repay you.” she thought.

Scottie raised a hand in protest.

“These past few months have been gift enough.” Scottie shook off. “She’s a wonderful little girl, Liz, and I’m just happy that I could be there for her.” she smiled.

“Thank you. I can bring her back, any time-”

Scottie challenged again and stepped towards Elizabeth, placing a hand on her arm.

“Both of you will always be welcome here.” she granted. “But, right now, she needs you.” Scottie told her as she looked upon Agnes. “And you need her. After all...Mother is God in the eyes of a child.”

Elizabeth’s brow faltered and she fought back more tears at Scottie’s words. All of a sudden, she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. Retrieving it to find the words ‘Nick’s Pizza.’ emblazoned on the screen.

*

Elizabeth and Agnes strolled hand-in-hand across the pebble-stone parking lot to the awaiting Mercedes. Dembe, being the gentleman he was, opened the passenger door for them.

“Reddy-Red!” Agnes yelled upon seeing Reddington in the back seat. He held his arm out to her.

Elizabeth smirked as she climbed in after them. Dembe remained outside after shutting the door.

“Hello, sweetheart!” giggled Reddington while Agnes clambered over to him.

They wrapped their arms over each other. Red’s eyelids fell as he took Agnes in. Kissing the top of her head and resting his cheek upon it. The same gesture he had given Elizabeth the night before. Elizabeth marvelled at the display. She knew Reddington had taken care of Agnes, while she was under, but she hadn’t given any thought to how close they actually were. Her heart surged with warmth at the knowledge that they had a mutual bond. That they were there for each other when she couldn’t be. She began to tear up as Reddington opened his eyes to her. He regarded her, affectionately, as if he knew what she was thinking and they mirrored each others smiles.

“Look who I've got!” Reddington said to Agnes and pulled a small, sailor-attired, teddy bear from his pocket.

“Reddy Bear!” Agnes exclaimed.

Reddington laughed delightfully as she clutched the teddy in her arms. Elizabeth was speechless. The fair-haired bear wore a navy-blue sailor suit, adorned a white cap, with the red and white striped shirt and red ascot. She beheld her daughter as she danced with the stuffed toy in her embrace.

“And Mommy’s back. Isn’t that exciting?” Red asked Agnes.

“Yeah!” Agnes yelped, trading her sight between her mother and Reddington.

“And speaking of Mommy.” Reddington said, reaching into the front passenger seat.

He returned presenting a small, woven basket to Elizabeth. She was awestruck. Flourishing from the vessel was a bouquet of green leaves transcended by bright blue flowers with the sun at their centre. She knew these blossoms. She saw them everyday in Alaska.

“Pretty flowers!” Agnes sang.

“Forget-me-nots.” Elizabeth identified, her mouth gaping. Taking the handle of the basket, her fingers chained to Reddington’s. Looking into his eyes, which were warm and heavy, she understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Or that old TV show about those women who wore high-end fashion, talked about men, and drank Cosmopolitans." - A reference to Sex And The City to which, in the second film, Megan Boone starred. 
> 
> "To break the colour she picked out a forest-green, collared blouse..." - A colour representative of healing. 
> 
> “Did you know that Alaska was once called Russian America?” - I wanted to explore why the writers of Ruin (5x09) sent Liz to Alaska for her solitary. Reddington's story about the Russian influence in Alaska is a result of that research and all historically true! An obvious connection to Liz's Russian heritage and I found the amount of biblical terminology particularly intriguing!
> 
> "Grace." - Liz went under the identity of Grace Talbot while in Alaska. The name translates as "God's favour."/"Messenger of destruction." 
> 
> “I missed you too! Every single day, baby, every single day!” - Drawing on the similarities between The Blacklist and Kill Bill, I wrote Liz's reunion with Agnes as a reference to Beatrix's reunion with B.B in Kill Bill 2. 
> 
> “Forget-me-nots.” - The colloquial name for Myosotis alpestris, the state flower of Alaska. A reference to the correlation of the term and The Blacklist's theme of [missing] memories.


	4. Haunted

Elizabeth turned the key and opened the door. Agnes toddled in ahead of her and Reddington followed behind them. The bronze hallway opened into Liz’s familiar studio apartment of rustic brickwork sectioned with ocean-blue walls. Dusk split through the wood blinds, dimly spotlighting the unopened boxes still cluttered the living room. Elizabeth placed the basket of forget-me-nots in the centre of the dining table within the open-plan kitchen. Stroking the fresh petals and making them dance as she admired them, pleasingly.

“They are beautiful.” Elizabeth spoke, gently. “Thank you.”

Turning back to face Reddington, to find him still standing at the end of the hall. His fedora mantled on the dappled, console table behind him. Frozen stiff, outside Agnes’s room, as if a pane of glass prohibited him from entering further.

“What is it?” blinking as she asked, stepping forward.

Reddington observed the bare apartment. Gritting his teeth then pursing his mouth with a disapproving shake of his head. Zeroing in on the ground at the space between them. A pained look twitching in his eye. Elizabeth’s gaze followed after him, onto the dark hardwood floor, to the spot where she formally lay battered and unconscious. A scar and a stain in the place where she should have been safe. Flinching images of that night flashed in her head. The cheerful strumming of the guitar music, Reddington and Dembe bursting through the door, the banging echo of gunfire. Elizabeth soothed the side of her head where it struck the ground. The act that forced her to be induced into comatose. She could feel Reddington watching her and she blinked, again, to meet his tortured stare. His shoulders were heavy, being pulled down by some unseen force. Like the residual energy of that night was draining him and wavering his signature, composed posture.

“I spend every waking moment...bent on undoing what happened to you, Lizzy.” he avowed, snarling.

“You did everything you could.” Elizabeth reassured him.

“It wasn’t enough.” Reddington stressed, gritting his teeth again. His upper lip twitched and he bowed his head. “He never should have involved you.” he growled. “You never should have been here.”

“Hey!” she hushed, striding to him, and taking both his hands in hers. Holding them chest-high between them.

He sustained to gape vacantly in discomfort. His breathing laboured with rage and his face aching, tormented by what transpired.

“Hey.” Elizabeth persisted in a soft whisper. Searching for him through his anguish. “I’ve put that behind me.” she comforted, vying to wash away his pain. “Not matter what happened...I’m alive because of you.” she consoled.

This woke Reddington. He raised his head. A hint of ease began to swim in his eyes, softening them, as he looked upon her. Elizabeth tilted her head. A warm expression of gratitude glimmering on her face.

“I’m here now.” she reminded him as she squeezed his fingers. “I’m here.”

There they stayed until Reddington relaxed. His stance returned with a shift of his feet, straightening his body towards her. For an instant, Elizabeth felt a familiar magnetism between them. She deliberated what to do next while they traded explorative looks.

“Mommy.” Agnes said as she suddenly appeared between them.

They separated, snapping back to reality.

“Hey, kiddo.” Elizabeth replied, softly, as she lifted Agnes in her arms.

“Sleepy.” Agnes mumbled whilst rubbing her eyes.

“It is getting late, isn’t it?” her mother acknowledged as she surveyed the fading light in the apartment. “Bedtime.” she declared, resting her forehead against Agnes’s.

Reddington gazed upon Elizabeth and her legacy. The right corner of his mouth curling into a smirk and, with quick nod of his head, revolved to retrieve his fedora.

“Well, then. I’ll leave you ladies to it.” he chimed upon putting his fingers to the brim.

Elizabeth turned after him.

“Wait-” The word spilling from her mouth. Unsure of what she wanted him to wait for.

“Biga!” Agnes finished, calling and stretching her hand out to Reddington.

He returned and gaped at the little girl in wonder. Elizabeth mimicked him. This was the first time Agnes had said her given name for Reddington with them both present. He drew towards her and docked his left hand to her reaching right. Letting Agnes’s little fingers wrap around his and Reddington shook her hand as he smiled. Elizabeth studied the display in awe. Reddington caught her fixation before Agnes made another request.

“Story.” she asked Reddington. He chuckled.

“We get ready for bed first, little lady.” Elizabeth directed as she carried Agnes away.

*

Elizabeth walked her daughter to her bedroom to find Reddington awaiting at the door. She tucked Agnes under the blanket and turned on the nightlight. A sky full of stars illuminated the darkness and sparkled across the admiral-blue walls and ceiling. Elizabeth knelt at the bedside and brushed the hair from Agnes’s face to plant a kiss on her brow.

“Story.” Agnes asked after Reddington again who still stood guard in the doorway.

Reddington anticipated Elizabeth’s permission to enter.

“Come on in.” she beckoned.

He stepped in and edged upon the foot of the bed. Elizabeth observed him as he sat upright with his forearms resting on his thighs. His fingers entangled within each other and draped between his knees. He faced the wall before him as the twinkling lights glittered the space and its occupants. He let out a relaxed breath, and Elizabeth turned back to Agnes and took her hand in hers. Stoking her thumb between her daughter’s drowsy eyes and up to her hairline.

“Twas noontide of summer…” Reddington began. “And mid-time of night; and stars, in their orbits, shone pale through the light.” His low tones breaking through his gentle whisper. “Of the brighter, cold moon amid planets her slaves.” he paused. “Herself in the Heavens, her beam on the waves.” an ache echoed in his voice. “I gazed a while on her cold smile; too cold-too cold for me.”

Elizabeth’s eyes averted from Agnes’s but could not turn to Red. Instead she stared, furrowed, at the wall in front of her. Her mouth hanging open as she translated Reddington’s words in her head.

“There passed, as a shroud, a fleecy cloud, and I turned away to thee. Proud Evening Star, in thy glory afar, and dearer thy beam shall be.” He continued. His resonance becoming brighter. “For joy to my heart is the proud part thou bearest in Heaven at night.” Reddington raised his eyes to the ceiling. Admiring the artificial stars and seeking beyond them. “And more I admire thy distant fire than that colder, lowly light.”

A silence descended in the room. Elizabeth’s vision had become blurred. As she blinked them clear to look over a, now, sleeping Agnes. Reddington rose to his feet. The only sound emanating was the shuffling of his clothes. Elizabeth was finally able to see him as he left, bracing himself with a hand on the doorframe. She wiped away the falling tears on her cheeks, bestowed another kiss upon Agnes, and rose herself. Leaving and closing the door behind her.

She searched the blackness and found Reddington’s silhouette in the kitchen. Now he was appreciating the blue blossoms on the table. Realising now they had switched places, to when they first arrived, as she stood set before Agnes’s bedroom. She paced towards him, slowly.

“Red?”

Silence.

“Red?” Elizabeth asked again, in earnest.

He inhaled. Elizabeth detected the sniffle in his breath followed by a choke in his throat. He tried to mask it with a clearing then a click of his tongue. In her minds eye, she could see the glint in the whites of his. More than a year of torment resonated in his storied confession. In the dim cloudy light of the apartment, only achieved from the distant street lamps, she reached him and entwined the fingers of their left hands. Her face only an inch from his still-jacketed shoulder.

“How many times have you read that-?” she began to ask.

“Every night.” he answered.

She began to well at the beauty that he recited poetry to Agnes every night they were together. Yet anguished at the thought that he tortured himself with a piece that spoke, to her, of loneliness. She ran her right hand across his back and gravitated into him. Embracing him. Once connected, he pivoted towards her, released his fingers from hers and took her face in his hands. Elizabeth replaced her own around his wrists and they held one another. They explored the murky shade for the features of each others faces finding only faint shadows. With their efforts futile, they settled to blindly draw their faces close until their foreheads touched. Elizabeth closed her eyes and tightened her grip on Reddington as they listened to the sounds of their drawing breath.

Seconds turned to minutes and Elizabeth felt herself fading from consciousness. The only thing keeping her on this plane was the soft grazes of Reddington’s thumbs over her temples.

“It’s late.” he finally spoke. “It’s been a long day.”

Elizabeth hummed, sleepily, in acknowledgement.

“You’re exhausted.” he surmised, taking her hand, all the while holding her up.

Her head hung heavy as he led her to bed.

Elizabeth sunk onto the pillow and Reddington pulled the sheets over her. Her eyes fighting to stay open.

“I need to tuck you in, one of these days.” Elizabeth jested, deliriously. Reddington sniggered. “It would only be fair.”

“Goodnight, Lizzy.” he bid, smiling on her before making his way to leave.

“You don’t have to go.” Elizabeth offered, alertly.

Reddington looked back at her as she sought after him hazily.

“What do you mean?”

“Stay tonight. Stay with me.” Elizabeth asked, with a hand supported under her cushion.

“I couldn’t-”

“I insist.” she almost demanded, tapping the free side of the bed behind her. “How long will it be before you secure another safehouse?”

Reddington pondered the request. She wasn’t wrong. It would be hours yet before he, himself, would get some rest. Not wanting to offend Elizabeth he finally nodded.

“Fair enough.” he surrendered.

Liz smirked behind closed eyes.

Red removed his jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat. Hanging them both on the hook on the door. After turning off the light, he sauntered around the bed and lay on the empty side next to Elizabeth. Avoiding getting under the covers; he disliked comforters. He was almost upright against the headboard with his hands clasped over his chest. Closing his eyes he fell into his half-sleep. A state he’d become acclimated to after all his years on the run. Always wary of an impending threat with his Colt .45 nearby.

After a while, he heard Elizabeth stirring next to him. He hesitated to clarify nothing was wrong. Then, felt her body roll and shift towards his. His eyes snapped open and watched her as she cuddled into him through sheets. His elbow preventing her from moving closer. After a moment of deliberation, he raised it and arced his arm over her. Reddington was unsure if he should be doing so.

Was Lizzie aware of what was happening?

Red tried to abstain but it felt so natural. His arm rested over her, cradling Elizabeth into him, as she reached across and clasped his right forearm. A faint moan sounding in her throat. Reddington almost couldn’t believe what was happening. Not wanting to wake her, he resolved and let his eyes fall, once more.

*

In the dark, Elizabeth could sense something was wrong. Her eyes opened and she searched the room. Sitting upright, she discovered Reddington gone. Not even a depression remained atop the sheet.

Something wasn’t right.

She yanked the covers off and made for the door, cracking it open. The light in apartment was strange; misty and ethereal. Liz tiptoed into the hallway.

“Red?”

No answer. It was deathly quiet. No echo. Not even the floorboards creaked. She reached Agnes’s room and began to open the door, to check on her.

“Agnes?” she asked.

Elizabeth’s heart plummeted to find an empty bed.

“Agnes!” she cried.

Backing out and turned into the living room.

“AGNES!” she screamed as she began foraging through the bare moving boxes. “AGNES!” She began to panic. “REDDINGTON!”

Her head was spinning. She clutched and tore at her hair.

What was happening?

“Liz?” A voice uttered.

Elizabeth froze. Her eyes wide with terror. She knew that voice. She faced the kitchen to find _him_. His grey shirt and cream, leather jacket stained with blood.

“No.” Liz refused, her voice faltering. “Stay away from me!” she demanded as she retreated back towards the wall.

“My Liz.” he said again.

“I’m not your Liz!” she snarled. “Where is my daughter?!” she yelled.

With a blink, he was standing in front of her, trapping her against the far wall.

“No!” she cried, clasping her eyes tight and shielding her face with her hands. “Get away from me! AGNES!” Elizabeth screamed again.

Suddenly, she was being pulled, by her hands, to the floor. She thudded on the hardwood to find herself in a spot she was all too familiar with. In the centre of the room where she almost died on that fateful night. Her eyes fluttered, flashing the image of Reddington standing over her. His face suffering and agonised as he looked down at her. She tried to call out to him but her lips wouldn’t move. His name trapped in her mouth and reverberating in her head.

“I was too late.” Reddington spluttered.

“Raymond. We have to go.” Dembe urged as he dragged him away.

Elizabeth desperately tried to reach out to him but her limbs wouldn’t awaken. She was forced to lay motionless and watch his mourning. Time delayed and moved in slow motion.

“Forgive me, Lizzy!” Reddington begged her.

His eyes closing to hide his tears as Dembe spun him towards the door and led him away. Every step further from her felt like an eternity. Elizabeth’s scream resounded in her head but could not escape. Reddington and Dembe passed through the front door and faded from view. She felt a single tear fall across the bridge of her nose as the door shut behind them. Closing her own eyes to the horror and, in the void and through her screams, tried to remember the sound of Reddington’s voice speaking her name.

“Lizzy...Lizzy...Elizabeth!”

*

“Lizzy...Lizzy...Elizabeth!” Reddington panicked. She had begun screaming in her sleep. He, lightly, shook her awake.

Elizabeth came to. Eyes wide with fear, hyperventilating, and soaked with sweat. Her eyes darted in the darkness and her hands fumbling for something to hold onto. Her grip found Reddington’s collar and latched onto it.

“Lizzy.” he beckoned.

She followed the sound of his voice, facing up at him.

“Red?!” she called desperately.

“Lizzy, I’m here” He assured her, bracing her elbow in his hand. “What is it? Talk to me.”

She quickly ascended, upright, on the bed, pulling him with her.

“The lights...please...turn on the light!” she choked, gulping for air.

Reddington recalled a lamp at his bedside, reached behind him, and flicked it on.

Elizabeth gasped, drawing a relieved breath, upon seeing Reddington and grabbed his collar with her other hand. She pulled herself into him and began intensely and brokedly weeping into his shoulder. He enfolded her in his protection and stoked her hair.

“Shh.” Reddington trembled, wounded by seeing her in such distress. “It’s alright. Everything’s going to be okay.” he reminded her.

“No!” Liz responded, snapping up and looking at him. “He- _he_ was here.” she struggled, through tears.

“ _He’s not_.” Reddington promised her. Knowing full well who she was referring to.

Elizabeth began hunting the room around her. Her head spinning, searching.

“Agnes. W-where’s Agnes?”

“Agnes is fine. She’s sound asleep.”

“I need to see her.” she pleaded.

Reddington took her hand, guided her off the bed, and carefully accompanied her back into the apartment. Holding his arm around her. She was still shaking. They silently tread through the hallway. Elizabeth was comforted to hear the faint creaking of the floorboards. Upon reaching Agnes’s door, Red swung it open to the still-twinkling stars of the nightlight and exhibited Elizabeth’s precious daughter to her.

“Oh, thank-” she exhaled, her voice breaking before she could finish her sentence. Collapsing into Reddington, again.

“It was just a bad dream.” he told her.

Red returned Elizabeth to bed. She asked the bedside lamp be left on. An almost candlelight luminescence radiated the room.

Reddington lay beside her. When the air settled, she rotated toward him, once more. Almost in a fetal position with her arms folded around herself. He looked down to her. Her eyes were vacant and troubled. Staring into nothing. She didn’t need to convey much more for him to know what she wanted. He opened himself to her. She inched towards Red and reached across him. Except, this time, she crept up and her head rested on his chest. Sheathing into him as he enveloped her in his arms.

“I can’t stay here.” she admitted. “We can’t stay here.”

Acknowledging that this ordeal and it’s inevitable reoccurance, if she remained in this haunted place, would not be healthy for her or her ability to raise Agnes.

“I know.” Reddington consoled, burying into her and kissing her hair. “You’re going to be okay.” He spoke into her crown. “Sleep now. I’m right here.”

Elizabeth clenched his shirt in gratitude and they proceeded to slumber. Each wreathed in each others arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Wait-” - A direct reference to the song that inspired this chapter, which was 'Wait' by M83. Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rw7aMVvPDmc
> 
> The poem Red recites to Agnes and Elizabeth is 'Proud Evening Star' by Edgar Allan Poe:
> 
> 'Twas noontide of summer,  
> And mid-time of night;  
> And stars, in their orbits,  
> Shone pale, thro' the light  
> Of the brighter, cold moon,  
> 'Mid planets her slaves,  
> Herself in the Heavens,  
> Her beam on the waves.  
> I gazed awhile  
> On her cold smile;  
> Too cold- too cold for me-  
> There pass'd, as a shroud,  
> A fleecy cloud,  
> And I turned away to thee,  
> Proud Evening Star,  
> In thy glory afar,  
> And dearer thy beam shall be;  
> For joy to my heart  
> Is the proud part  
> Thou bearest in Heaven at night,  
> And more I admire  
> Thy distant fire,  
> Than that colder, lowly light. 
> 
> “He-he was here.” - I want to explore the issue of Liz's PTSD. Something that has been criminally unaddressed on the show! The nightmare scene is a reference to that and the beginning of a topic I will be exploring in following chapters.


	5. The Audrey

Reddington awoke, alert, to the playful squealing of Agnes down the hall. Still laying upright against the headboard, he took in his surroundings. The bedside lamp still, dimly, illuminated the windowless bedroom and, at his side, Elizabeth continued to slumber. She had fallen back onto the mattress but his arm had remained guarding over her. Layers of hair had descended over her visage. The glow of the lamplight transformed her strands of earth with rivers of gold. Revealing shades of the time Elizabeth masqueraded as blonde, like the hidden spots of a black leopard. Slowly and quietly, Reddington parted Elizabeth’s locks away from her face, with his fingertips, and tucked them behind her ear. Lightly brushing her helix as he went. She shifted, ever so slightly, inhaling a breath. A subconscious reaction that sounded like a distant breeze. Hoping he had not woken her, Reddington settled. Once satisfied that Elizabeth remained dormant, he rose from the bed and set out of the room. Before closing the door, he caught one last glimpse of her sleeping form through the crack in the frame. Regarding Elizabeth with sincere fascination.

*

With her eyes still closed, Elizabeth reached out and her hand explored all but a depression on the bed. Her eyes snapped open and Elizabeth realised that he was gone.

“No.” she thought aloud and hoisted herself up, bracing her tired weight on her hands. The comforter rustled and it’s surface was ruffled and creased. The lamp aided her as she surveyed the room until she reached the door. Daylight broke through the inch of the open portal and on its hook remained his jacket and waistcoat.

“Raaar!” Agnes roared playfully, from the living room, followed by a delighted giggle from Reddington.

Elizabeth sighed in relief, knowing she was awake. Throwing the covers off, she arose and followed the sounds.

“What’s going on out here?” she called, inquisitively, making her way down the hall. Entering the living room to find Reddington standing surrounded by the moving boxes.

Some had been emptied and placed upside down. He looked over his shoulder toward her and put a finger to his lips before returning his attention to the scattered boxes. Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Reddington began to stealthily step and around each box, contemplating, with an amused smile and cunning eye. Elizabeth gaped then smirked upon the realisation that this was a makeshift game of Hide-and-Seek. She entered and began to explore the cardboard maze, tapping the roof of each cube as she passed. After a few minutes, Liz caught Red’s gaze as they each scanned the room. Listening for a sound, a shuffle, a deceptive giggle, anything. She stated with a squint of her eye how impressive Agnes was at this to which Reddington replied with beaming nod of his head. Then.

“RAAAR!” Agnes cried as she popped out of the box next to Liz.

Liz jumped and let out a startled gasp which quickly turned to laughter.

Agnes snickered through her fingers as she revelled in the triumph of scaring her mother.

Reddington chuckled joyfully across from them.

“Got you, Mommy!” Agnes giggled.

“You got me.” Her mother confirmed, bracing her weight on her knees with a hand on her chest. Nearly breathless and with a scheming smile, she turned to Agnes. “And now…” she started, creeping towards her daughter. “I’m going to get you!” Elizabeth committed playfully.

Agnes shrieked in response as she made to escape her hiding spot. Liz foiled her attempt when she scooped Agnes up and spun her around in her arms, laughing victoriously.

“I missed you so much.” Liz proclaimed as they embraced each other, tightly. “You hungry?” she asked Agnes.

“Ah, I took the liberty.” Reddington answered, motioning to the kitchen where there lay remnants of a morning meal.

“I missed breakfast? How long was I asleep?” Elizabeth asked him, concernedly.

“You had a rough night.” Reddington reassured her. Looking up from under his brow.

Elizabeth eyes fell and stared blankly as she recalled the faint memories of her nightmare. Tormented by the trauma that occured in the very room where they all stood. The empty feeling of finding Agnes gone. The torture of watching Reddington walk away from the notion of being unable to save her.

“Are you alright?” He asked, in earnest, suddenly beside her with a hand outstretched to her shoulder.

“Hm?” she roused, snapping back to reality. “Yeah, I’m fine.” replying with weak smiles to her company. “I’m gonna take a shower.” Elizabeth informed, setting Agnes down and making her way through the debris.

“Can I get you anything?” Reddington asked after her. “Something to eat?”

Elizabeth turned back to face him with a hand upon the wall.

He looked for her with a gentle disquiet.

“Please…” Elizabeth subscribed, kindly. Conveying with tired eyes that she knew he saw her troubles. “And coffee.”

*

Feeling refreshed, and finished with her breakfast, Liz cupped her mug of coffee with both hands. She found a kind of comfort in the heat that radiated through the crockery into her palms. Meanwhile, outside, rain had begun to fall. The droplets pattering against the big bay window. Elizabeth sat at the head of the kitchen table with Reddington in the chair beside her. The basket of forget-me-nots still a centerpiece on the surface.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth spoke, barely above a whisper. Staring into the void of her coffee.

“You're welcome.”

“I’m not just talking about breakfast.” Elizabeth hinted. “What happened last night…” she began. “If you hadn’t stayed...I don’t know what I would have done...without you.” she admitted, finally looking up to match his troubled stare. “And what you’ve done for Agnes…I can’t thank you enough.” she continued, looking over at her daughter playing amongst the stain of that night. “We can’t stay here.” Elizabeth reiterated with a harrowed sigh. Her eyes closing, trying to hold the flashbacks at bay.

Suddenly, she felt Reddington’s left hand curl inside hers and pull it towards him. His fingers were as warm as the cup. She watched as he began delicately stroking the back of her wrist with his thumb. Then, searched up into his cloudy-green eyes which were fraught with worry.

“I can help you.” he said. His jaw clenching as his lips pursed. Delivering a promise, a certainty. Then, a pause. “All you have to do is ask.” Reddington’s voice wavered.

A remnant of despair clung to his words, like he had said them before. It was almost as if he was begging and Liz’s jaw almost dropped.

She heard an echo of the past.

_"I’m not going to beg you to allow me the privilege of helping you.”_

Elizabeth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was compromising. Desperate even.

She pondered this revelation. Remaining entranced by his inquiring fern iris’, which now swam with a shimmering plight, and in them reflected of all the hardship she had endured. Her own eyes began to cloud like the approaching storm. Suddenly, thunder boomed in the distance and startled her back towards the bay studio window. Reddington squeezed her hand comfortingly, anchoring her. A mirage of water now fell upon the glass, through the voile curtains, rippling and swirling like the markings in marble. The rain was falling unrelentingly and a thought flashed into Elizabeth’s mind.

“Do you remember?” she asked anxiously, turning back to Reddington who leant supportingly towards her. “A few years ago when I was living in the motel...you offered me an apartment.”

“Yes.” Reddington recalled, lifting and tilting his head. “The Audrey.” The name rumbled in his throat.

Elizabeth hesitated modestly.

“Would an offer like that...still be on the table?” she enquired, glancing at the forget-me-nots on the tabletop.

Reddington blinked his unease away and his expression warmed.

“It always has been.”

Elizabeth discerned the declaration with a trembling composure. Trying to form the realisation through incoherence.

Reddington gathered her incomprehension and looked down at their joined hands.

“The apartment at The Audrey.” he paused, taking his turn to glimpse at the blossoms he bestowed to her. “...has always been a recourse for you, Lizzy.” he proclaimed while looking upon her, once more.

Elizabeth’s disposition began to break as she deciphered that, after all this time, his offer still stood. She adjoined her right hand to their already established connection.

Before her tears had begun to fall, Reddington extended his own right hand to cradle her face and dam her deluge. He had barely reached her before she sunk into his palm, her eyes collapsing as she took him. There they sat entwined to the sound of the drumming torrent.

*

The showers continued to rattle the windows of the apartment as Elizabeth nestled, with arms folded, against Reddington on the sofa.

He sat, his legs crossed towards her, left hand resting on his thigh, and his right arm draped around her. Red was softly stroking her shoulder as they observed Agnes still playing in the centre of the room.

“I have to go to back to work.” Elizabeth acknowledged, her eyes darting to and fro. Looking at this tainted place was becoming unbearable. “I need a distraction.”

She had grown restless from inactivity. She craved focus, missed the enthralling environment of The War Room, and exhilaration of hunting down Reddington’s Blacklister’s.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained...and The Blacklist must continue.” Reddington recited.

“Mm.” she agreed. “I’ll have to check in with Cooper. How soon can you make the arrangements for The Audrey?”

“I’ll have your things moved in today.” he pledged.

“Only what’s important.” Elizabeth told him. “Anything trivial, leave it.”

Needing to break free from as much of this cage as she could, Elizabeth would carry none of it with her. She wanted a fresh start.

“As you wish.” Reddington granted.

“Thank you.” she murmured.

He smoothed his hand across her shoulder and down her arm. She reached her left hand out, from her cross, and caught his fingers as they stationed on her bicep. He gently pressed her to him, as she held on, and tenderly kissed her hair. Her sigh breezed again, harmonizing with the rainstorm.

“You deserve happiness, Lizzy, and you will have it. I promise.”

They sat embraced, in silence, a while longer.

“What time is it?” Elizabeth asked, examining his signature Oystersteel Rolex. It was nearly noon. “I better get going.”

“Shall I call Dembe?” Reddington offered, unwrapping her as she heaved herself from the sofa.

“No, thanks.” she politely declined. “I’d like to drive.”

“Fair enough. In the meantime, I’ll watch over Agnes and put your affairs in order.”

“Come here, kiddo.” Elizabeth beckoned to Agnes and the little girl ran into her arms. “Mommy’s gotta go to work but I’ll see you tonight, okay? Red has a surprise for us and I’m gonna meet you later.” Elizabeth smiled as Agnes nodded fervidly.

She gave her her daughter a long hug goodbye and made her way down the hall.

Reddington followed her to the front door. Upon putting her hand on the doorknob, she turned to face him.

“Pick me up later?”

“Call me when you’re done.” Reddington accorded, brightly.

Liz inserted her hand into his and appreciatively looked across his now light-hearted expression. He replied with an enduring kiss to her forehead.

“See you tonight.” she bid as she opened the door and set out into the day.

Elizabeth took the stairs down into the parking lot, and got into her car. Pulling out her phone, she dialled Cooper’s number and listened for the tone to be picked up.

 _“Cooper.”_ a quick, smooth voice stated.

“Sir. It’s Keen.” she responded.

 _“Keen?”_ he asked with a tone of surprise. _“It’s been a long time. How are you keeping?”_

“Good, sir. That why I’m calling. I’ve been back for a couple of days, taking care of some things.”

_“That’s great news.”_

“I’m actually on my way in now, but I don’t have my credentials, could you put my name on the visitation list?”

 _“I’ll do that right away.”_ he confirmed. _“Let them know your coming.”_

“Thank you, sir.” she finished and hung up.

The drive to The Post Office was as calming as she hoped it would be. The still-falling rain flowing past her, like streams, across the windows. The rhythmic thrum of the wipers whirring back and forward as drops beat down on the windshield. Thankfully, there wasn’t much traffic. Despite being Washington DC, the weather must have been keeping the roads quiet. Elizabeth was anxious to get back to work.

Arriving at the gate, she lowered her window to the guard in the check-in booth.

“Identification.” he stated.

“Elizabeth Keen.” she declared, flashing her driver’s license. It felt odd not having her badge. “Assistant Director Harold Cooper is expecting me.”

The guard combed over his clipboard, nodded upon finding her name, and pushed a button to raise the fence.

She pulled into the parking bay, under the concrete structure of the black site, and proceeded to the trademark yellow elevator of The Post Office.

The gargantuan doors of the unique, rusty cube slid shut and it descended Elizabeth to The War Room. The sheets of steel revealed to her the familiar dark, reflective floors of her second home. The long room reached to the perspex analysis boards. Aram’s desk on the left, below the catwalk, sat before the entrance to the holding cells and The Box. Samar’s station situated parallel before her own office that she shared with Ressler. All illuminated by dozens of bright, white light bars and hanging lamps. Lording over all were the LCD displays of the tactical screens. Elizabeth breathed it all in as she ascended the iron staircase to Cooper’s office. She was back.

She knocked on the glass and opened the door to find Cooper sitting at his desk. He looked up through his bold, rectangular frames.

“Keen. It's good to have you back.” he greeted swiping off his glasses and raising from his seat.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Are you-?”

“Reporting in, sir, yes.” Elizabeth finished while standing sure. “I’m ready to resume my duties as an agent.”

“Excellent.” he smiled. “Now, you know I can’t just hand over your badge.” Cooper continued, officiously. Beckoning her to sit as he, too, sank back into his chair. “After a compassionate leave such as yours, you’ll need to undergo the process of reinstatement.”

“I understand, sir.” Elizabeth nodded.

“I’m issuing you for a fitness-for-duty evaluation and we’ll see if you’re as ready to come back to work as you believe you are.” he prescribed, opening and closing his hands.

“Looking forward to it, sir. I just want to get back to work.”

“So do I. We’ve missed you. I’ve missed you.” Cooper confessed.

Elizabeth beamed at him like she did on that first day. All those years ago.

“It’s good to be back.” she exhaled.

They rose together and Liz approached the door.

“And Keen?” Cooper asked, from behind his desk, as she looked back at him. “Welcome back.”

Liz grinned and closed the door behind her. The blinds rattling off the window.

She descended the steps to return to the elevator.

All of a sudden, Samar appeared from around the corner coming back from the interrogation area. She was dressed in a dark, earthy palette complemented by a black jacket. Looking up from her manila file, she set eyes on Elizabeth.

“Liz.” she gathered, astonished. “I didn’t know you were back. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to be seen.” Liz chimed. “How are you? How’s Aram? How are you and Aram?”

“Boring. Blissful. Domestic.” Samar bantered. Her articulate middle-eastern accent swirling with her American English.

“I’m so happy for you.”

“How’s Agnes?”

“She’s great. We’re together again. We’re actually moving out today.” Liz enthused.

“Moving out? I don’t understand.” Samar shook her head in confusion. “Aren’t you coming back?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I’m here. I talked to Cooper and he’s preparing my reinstatement.” Liz assured her. “Reddington got us a new apartment. After everything that’s happened, Agnes and I, we deserve a clean slate.”

“A clean slate? What about T-”

“I gotta go.” Liz, inhaled sharply and, cut Samar off before she could finish saying his name. Passing her and making for the way out as the flashbacks blinked. “Hey, I wanna hear about boring and domestic.” Liz posed, looking back at Samar who stood perplexed.

The elevator doors closed between them and Liz huffed in frustration. The last thing she wanted, today, was to be questioned. Least of all by her best friend. She massaged her temples as the lift gears battered and squeaked above her.

Elizabeth retrieved her phone. The clock numbers on the screen indicated that a few hours had passed. She searched and clicked on the number for ‘Nick’s Pizza’. It barely reached the second ring before Reddington picked up.

“Lizzy.”

“Red.” she sighed

“How did it go?”

“Good. Cooper’s working on my reinstatement.” she told him, weakly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, detecting her distress.

“Oh, nothing. I bumped into Samar and we were talking and things got a little...difficult.” Elizabeth exasperated.

“Lizzy, listen to me.” Red instructed. “You’re going to be okay.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and heard his calming voice. Breathing in and out, therapeutically, like she did in his arms the night she came home. He was silent on the other end of the line, listening to make sure she fulfilled his wish. Liz came round to the scraping sound of the doors sliding open.

“I’m okay.” she told him. “How’s Agnes?”

“She’s fine. She’s been having fun helping us pack. Fortunately, most of your things are already in boxes so everything is moving ahead of schedule.”

“That’s good.” Liz chuckled.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah. I’ll wait for you here.”

“We’re on our way. You’re almost there, Lizzy.”

“See you soon.” Hanging up the phone, she entered her car and waited for Reddington and Agnes.

The rain had stopped since she’d been underground. Sitting in the driver’s seat, she traced her scarred wrist as she observed her rear-view mirror.

A little while later, she spotted Reddington’s silver Mercedes roll into the parking lot. Liz snapped open her car door and climbed out. She could see Agnes pressed up against the glass through the light, custom tint job and dashed toward her. Pulling open the door to reveal her precious girl.

“Mommy!” Agnes reached out.

“Hey!” Elizabeth giggled as she clambered into the back seat and pulled her daughter to her.

“All set?” asked Reddington.

“Let’s go.”

*

They drove northwest along T Street, a narrow road sandwiched between charming suburban brick houses and shrouded by scenic trees. The foliage broke at the junction of 19th Street and the car continued on ahead past the U.S Postal Service on the corner of Florida Avenue. Towering adjacent stood the crescent, windowed structure of The Audrey. At the top of the sloped road, Dembe turned into the parking lot, beneath the overpass of The Hilton, and parked before the ramp of the apartment building.

“We’re here!” Agnes sang.

Elizabeth and Reddington exchanged bright smiles before swinging open their doors.

“Do you want me to wait?” Dembe asked Red.

“No, thank you, Dembe. You go on ahead.” Reddington rendered. “I call you when Elizabeth and Agnes are settled.” he finished, hauling himself from his escort. He swung the car door shut behind him and donned his trademark fedora, straightening it’s indigo brim with his fingertips.

Agnes had already scurried up the stone ramp shielded by sheets of clear glass. Reddington courteously guided Elizabeth up the walkway, under the polished cherry wood ceiling panels, and into her new home.

The foyer of The Audrey was sleek and classy. Floored by arrowed marble and helmed by a pearl reception desk. Modern furniture filled the lobby that was walled by overlit, wooden columns.

“Mister Homan.” chirped the conservative receptionist. “Back so soon!”

“Good evening, Miss Holloway.” Reddington reciprocated.

“Are these our new arrivals?”

“Indeed they are. Elizabeth Keen and, her daughter, Agnes. Elizabeth. Miss Holloway.” he introduced, smiling from ear-to-ear.

Miss Holloway turned to Elizabeth, pleasingly, and held out her hand.

“Hello, Miss Keen! It’s a pleasure and welcome to The Audrey!” she hailed.

“The pleasure's all mine.” Elizabeth accepted, gratefully, and shook her hand.

“And hello, Agnes!” the lady greeted sweetly.

“Hello!” Agnes caroled.

Miss Holloway’s chuckle spread amongst them.

“Will you be requiring any more assistance today?” she continued.

“No, thank you, my dear.” Reddington told her. “Just the formalities.”

“Very good, sir.” turning to her computer screen and rapidly typing the keyboard. “O-kay. All checked in. Room 506...you know the way, sir.” she resolved.

Reddington exchanged nods with the pleasant woman and directed Elizabeth and Agnes, with a signalling hand, toward the elevators.

The lift took them to the fifth floor and they arrived at Apartment 506.

Elizabeth let out a nervous breath. Reddington took her hand and, with his other, reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the key. He placed it gently in her palm, closed her fingers, and held her there.

“Welcome home, Lizzy,” he conveyed, softly, into her deep blue eyes then bid her enter.

Elizabeth slotted her pass into the keyhole and turned. The door opened, Agnes burst in, and Liz gasped.

The apartment was modern yet classically elegant. Midnight blue walls reached up to a porcelain white ceiling oceaned by poplar hardwood floorboards. An open-plan kitchen tucked into the left corner with an island breakfast counter. Ahead lay the living room wherein sat a porpoise-grey, leather settee before a matching-colour shelving unit and ashwood coffee table. Behind the sofa was the dining table beneath a hanging lamp that resembled an exploding star. The entire room was helmed, and curtained, by the architectural windows of The Audrey that led out onto a small balcony with a panoramic view of Washington DC.

Agnes ran further in, around the corner to the right, where there were two bedrooms. Her own in front and Elizabeth’s at the back with an en-suite bathroom.

Liz stood in the centre atop the silvery down rug of her grand but quaint home and stared in wonder.

“Do you like it?” Reddington studied, removing his hat and hanging it from his fingertips, apprehensively.

Taking another moment to absorb the astounding interior design, she finally turned to Reddington.

“I love it.” she professed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re welcome. I’m glad.” Reddington profused, nodded his head, appreciatively. “I had some design input...the original white was...too white.” he revealed.

“Wait...you-” Liz stammered. “You-you altered the apartment?” she quizzed.

Reddington petted his lip and tilted his head playfully.

“I find being immersed in monochrome can give one headaches.” he squinted. “So, I...splashed some life into the place and, as I understand it, you have a fondness for aquatic colours.”

“How did you-?”

“I do own the apartment, Lizzy.” Reddington paused. “Well, that’s being modest…I own the building.” he boasted, confidently.

Elizabeth’s shook her head in disbelief with eyes widened, and brow raised.

“You own The Audrey?!” she distinguished to which Reddington nodded, reservedly.

“My name isn’t above the door...but, yes.” he joked. “The Audrey belongs to me and everyone in it is in my employ.” A silence of perception passed between them. “Elizabeth, when the confluence of peril that surrounded you, upon my entering your life, manifested as it did...I took steps to ensure your protection should you have, ever, asked for it.” he explained. “Purchasing The Audrey was an, admittedly, compulsive transaction as a result of your living in that sordid motel.” he spat the latter word in disgust. His discontent spiking, in his voice, upon recalling her bygone misfortune. His head bobbing and gesticulating as his emotions bared. “You’ve told me, in the past, that you don’t need my protection and, Lizzy, I want nothing more than for that to be a reality. However, until our journey is over, your safety is of great concern to me and it is an obligation I intend to fulfil. For you and Agnes.” Reddington vowed.

Elizabeth stood, motionless, as she comprehended Red’s words though the flashes.

“I know.” she concurred, brokenly, her expression heavy with understanding. She extended her hand to him, reaching out.

Reddington abandoned his fedora on the breakfast island as he drifted toward her. His fingers made berth into her scarred wrist and, like a wave to a cliff, she crashed into his chest. Red received her with encompassing arms and a lapping oath.

“You’re going to be okay. Both of you. I promise.”

For the first time, in a long time, Elizabeth felt truly still. Treading the waters of safety in the echo of Reddington’s calm and the whistle of Agnes gleefully squealing in her bedroom.

Liz jolted as her phone vibrated in her back pocket.

Reddington secured a settling peck to the side of her head as she retrieved it.

A message from Cooper lit up the screen.

**Fitness-for-duty evaluation: Dr. Zurich, Sunday @ 0900.**

  
“Cooper has my reinstatement in motion. My evaluation starts Sunday morning.”

“Wonderful. Fifty minutes of pure reflection and self-evaluation.” Reddington jested.

“You’ve been to therapy?” Liz asked, looking at him, stunned.

“God, yes. Therapy helped me become an entirely different person.” he encouraged. “For now, though, let’s celebrate.”

Outside, the sun had fallen. Burning the horizon of the Capitol and the bronzed city blended with the, now, dark night sky and the stars began to twinkle.

Reddington released Elizabeth and approached the shelving unit behind her. Upon closer inspection, Liz discovered several of the alcoves were filled with records.

Red thumbed through the collection and selected one from the recess. He, expertly, slipped the vinyl from it’s sleeve, and placed it on the turntable that nestled inside another shelved opening.

Elizabeth listened intently as Reddington gently set the needle down on the record and shed his coat to reveal a navy blue three-piece suit.

He held out out his own hand, now, inviting her to dance as a capoed G chord strummed thrice into an E minor and the gentle melodic voice of Audrey Hepburn sang:

_“Moon river…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter was inspired by the final scene of 'Breakfast At Tiffany's'! I wanted to get Liz out of her canon apartment, bring back the offer Reddington made to her in T. Earl King (2x14), and move her to The Audrey which is now called The Hepburn in real-life. This required a lot of research into the real building which is why Ch.5 has taken so long. Making the connection, the final interaction of Holly Golighty and Paul Varjak in the film, helped provide the inspiration, the imagery, and structure of this entire instalment of SCTNS.  
> Can you see the similarities to The Blacklist?! You can watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnOfomPgETs
> 
> "I can help you...all you have to do is ask." - This scene is an, almost, direct reference to Josephine Moliere from Alistair Pitt (3x13). One of my personal favourite episodes and I wanted to mirror Liz's transforming relationship to that of Red and Josephine's!
> 
> "They drove northwest along T Street..." - Real description of the Washington DC streets with another, coincidental (I THINK NOT), reference to the film 'North By Northwest' within The Blacklist universe.
> 
> "Mister Homan." - Bringing back Reddington's original alias from The Pilot/Ranko Zamani (1x01). The name 'Homan' is originally a Germanic name meaning 'Head Man', 'leader', or 'adviser'. 
> 
> "Miss Holloway." - A reference to Lee Holloway from the James Spader film 'Secretary'. 
> 
> "Apartment 506." - The numbers 5 and 6 are a reference to my perception of Liz's character. 5 is symbolic of a dynamic and energetic soul with an independent mind and penchant for taking risks. 6 is an angelic number, focused on the detriment of one's internal and spiritual life, meaning the need to take focus on one's domestic life including your home and you loved ones.
> 
> Several elements of Liz's new apartment are inspired by another symbolic Blacklist location that every Lizzington SHIPPER should know about! Can you spot them?
> 
> "Dr. Zurich." - I'm giving Liz a new psychiatrist for her fitness-for-duty evaluation. Dr. Zurich is a reference to, the birthplace of, Hermann Rorschach. The pioneer of The Rorschach Test, a.k.a INKBLOTS. 
> 
> 'Moon River' by Audrey Hepburn, listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEdPe1SxitI


End file.
